


Running Red

by collartothewind



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Extra Treat, F/M, Florence - Freeform, blood references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:22:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22704649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/collartothewind/pseuds/collartothewind
Summary: A quiet moment on a warm night in Florence.
Relationships: Bedelia Du Maurier/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	Running Red

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Caissa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caissa/gifts).



She knew that Hannibal generally preferred to make his own gelato. He had perfected the skill not long after they had arrived in Florence, and over the last few weeks he had developed several new flavors. Bedelia had tried just one, the Blood Orange flavor - which was, ironically, the only one without any actual blood in it. Or so Hannibal had promised her. 

Sometimes, though, if Hannibal was in a particularly good mood, he would join her for an evening stroll in the city, and she would manage to persuade him to purchase a treat from one of the gelaterias near the river. He would never do anything as gauche as eat from a wafer cone, but he would consent to a small pot with a spoon. 

On this night in particular, Hannibal opted for a scoop of biscotti gelato, and she chose lavender. Lavender was supposed to be good at reducing stress, and she had learned to take any opportunity to do that.

Gelato pots in hand, they stood on the Ponte alle Grazie and looked out across the water as the sun disappeared over the horizon. The bridge was noisy, a thoroughfare for tourists and locals alike, but as always when she was with Hannibal, Bedelia felt everything else fade into the background. It could have been just the two of them on the bridge. It could have been just the two of them in the world.

From where they stood, the lights of the Ponte Vecchio gleamed bright, a little further along the river. It was the oldest bridge in the city, lined with jewellers, antique stores and art sellers, but it was a place that she tended to avoid due to the crowds and the inflated prices. At this distance, though, it was beautiful.

"This was a river of blood, once," Hannibal said, mildly, his head angled down so that his lips were next to her ear. She tensed, but remained still. She had taught herself never to flinch.

"A river of blood?" 

"The Ponte Vecchio was home to a string of butchers, back in the fourteenth century. They would clean and prepare the meat in their stores, then open the windows and pour out the blood and waste into the river. Imagine."

Bedelia could indeed imagine. A red river tainted by death, its stench pervading the surrounding area. A slaughterhouse that looked like a handsome landmark.

"Of course," Hannibal said genially, "there are no butchers left there now. The Duke evicted them all and replaced them with goldsmiths in the sixteenth century. He thought that was much more... palatable." 

"Indeed," Bedelia said. Her remaining gelato was melting in the bottom of the pot as she stared down into the dark water.

"Water has memories, though," Hannibal said. "Don't you agree?" He placed his hand over hers, which rested on top of the bridge wall. His touch was cool and dry, almost impossibly so on such a warm, humid evening.

Bedelia looked up at him. "I think... some things should be forgotten."

Hannibal hummed, a small noise that could have been agreement or discontent, and removed his hand from hers. 

"It is late," he said. He offered her his arm. "Shall we?"

Bedelia took a final look at the Ponte Vecchio. Bloody history or not, it was stunning.

She took Hannibal's arm. "We shall."


End file.
